


A Midsummer Night to remember

by Miss_Rust



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Trauma, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Huddling For Warmth, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Midsummer, Modern Westeros, Rhaegar's A+ parenting, Stargazing, traumatic mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 16:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Rust/pseuds/Miss_Rust
Summary: It's Midsummer Night, and Jon has escaped the party to spend some quality time with his service dog, but then he gets a visitor.A welcome one, nonetheless.





	A Midsummer Night to remember

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to day one of #jonmundweek! Topic - Seasons / Holidays

It was finally summer, and Jon and Ghost were on a trip through the fields around his father’s castle, Jon on a bike and Ghost running beside him, yipping as he crossed in front of him and speeding off into a field, only to return to beside him within seconds.

Both had been cooped up inside due to Jon’s exams, but now, he was back with his adoptive family, at Winterfell estate. He could hear them still, laughing and singing back in the gardens he had just driven by, a summer barbecue to celebrate Midsummers Night. The longest day in the year and Jon intended to spend it with his family, and his service dog, Ghost.

When Ned had offered him to leave the festivities to run about the fields, seeing his nephew made son fidgeting and wriggling his legs in nervous energy, Jon didn’t need to be told twice to grab Ghost and his bike and run.

Now, he had reached the river, and before Jon could do anything Ghost leapt into the frigid waters. Bouncing around and splashing water everywhere, he was a sight to behold. Jon broke out into a wide smile, dropped his bike and ran after his service dog, into the river. Only the feet though, as he didn’t want to get his clothes wet. Ghost rectified this immediately by trying to jump into his arms when he saw his owner approach, yipping happily.

They spent their time playing, letting out all the pent-up energy and frustration. Ghost was a very well-trained service dog, noticing how stressed Jon was, and succeeding in relaxing his owner by just being an excitable happy dog.

By the time the sun had sunken way below midpoint and dusk set in, Jon sat back against a tree trunk, Ghost cuddled against him. His clothes had dried already, and Ghost was only slightly damp now from the burning sun over the past hours. Suddenly, Ghost perked up and looked through the trees, so Jon turned around.

Squinting his eyes against the setting sun, he could only make out Tormund’s form when he was about 3 metres from him, seemingly carrying food with him from the barbecue.

He would have arrived only a couple of minutes ago, maybe just long enough to drop into Winterfell estate, ask after Jon, get some food for the three of them and find Jon in the woods.

Tormund was a young man who had moved into the cottage beside Jon’s father’s estate when Jon was 16, and Ned was reluctant to let his nephew meet him.

His nephew still hadn’t said a single word after he was rescued from his abusive father, Rhaegar, a year before. Jon was staying with his father after his mother had died when he was very young, Rhaegar letting all his pent up anger against his late ex-wife out at Jon.

Ned only realised that something was wrong when he got a call from the hospital, who had collected Jon from the streets after he had fled his father, bleeding profusely. They had contacted the police who then found the only other emergency contact in Jon’s file on his late mothers’ side, and assumed he would be a safer choice for the minor than his father. Ned had driven through the entire night, only to be questioned profusely by child protective services for 4 hours before they deemed him to be safe and he could finally see his nephew.

Jon healed from his bruises and broken arm while Ned took him into his family. Traumatic Mutism was a thing some rarely recovered from, but when Jon had offered Ned his first words to say ‘thank you’ for a miserably cooked dinner, one that Ned had tried when Cat was out, Ned was relieved. He reckoned that Tormund was a good influence on his boy, seeing how he smiled every time he came back.

Jon was glad he found him when he did. He felt that Tormund played a big role in his recovery by simply existing. Tormund never tried to be his therapist, he only existed in his world, and let Jon be a part of it without questioning him, accepting his trauma for what it was. He was just that, a good friend.

Who could question it if Jon had fallen for him, bit after bit? He only ever wanted to be accepted, not pitied, to be seen as he was. Tormund was so free-spirited and kind, and just the right kind of funny that he made Jon feel like he was on clouds. Jon was whipped, in every sense. It had happened so gradually, over the years that when one day, he woke up and realised that maybe this was love, he was more surprised than anything. He was 24 now, Tormund four years his senior and he had known him for six years, growing closer and closer, best friends even when Jon left for university.

Jon squinted up, surprised to find himself having daydreamed for a bit longer than he had planned, and realised Tormund had already settled beside him, waiting for Jon to find himself back to reality.

“A silver for your thoughts, little crow? You seem dreamy today,” Tormund smiled, puttering about with the Tupperware holding some pasta salad and sausages from the barbecue and handed them to Jon, carefully avoiding touching Ghost, as he didn’t know if he was working or not.

Jon loved he was so considerate, some people just went and petted him, ignoring his little service dog sweater, seemingly because he seemed abled to them. Tormund never was like that.

He accepted the Tupperware, throwing Ghost a sausage and then looked back to Tormund.

“He’s not working right now” and, a couple of seconds later “I know you missed him, we’ve been gone for a while”

“It’s not just him I missed”, Tormund said, looking a bit peculiar but Jon couldn’t decipher that look, normal human interaction was hard to him even though he had left his father ages ago. Some things, when neglected, were hard to catch up on when an adult, but he knew that Tormund would tell him things plainly if they were important.

So, he just nodded, leaning a bit further into Tormund’s direction, not wanting to put up with talking. They ate together, looking at the sunset and taking turns in cuddling Ghost, and when the chill of the night set in, Tormund grabbed behind himself and pulled a blanket over them both.

Jon settled into Tormund’s side just for the sake of being close to him, and maybe his warmth. Ghost climbed over them both and settled on Jon’s right, mirroring Tormund. Jon dozed off again, deep into his thoughts.

Maybe he should tell Tormund he loved him, today. He didn’t think he could contain himself anymore. His stress from university and meeting his family again was falling off his shoulders like a sack of boulders as he was with Tormund. Even though he had been back only for a day, he already needed time to recharge. Funnily enough, Tormund was the only exception. Being introverted was funny sometimes, he supposed. His thoughts were interrupted again when Tormund gently nudged him to get his attention.

“Look, they’re setting up the fireworks” Tormund pointed over to the other treeline, where sure enough, little figures Jon could make out as his uncle, his cousin Robb and his boyfriend Theon, were bumbling over the plains and setting up a lot of fireworks, to celebrate Midsummer’s Night.

Jon nodded, snuggling further into Tormund and the blankets.

“I don’t want to go back just yet, is that okay?” he mumbled into the blanket.

“Anything you want, little crow,” Tormund said into his locks somewhere close to his ear, shifting Jon around so he could lock him into his arms, Ghost moving into Jon’s lap.

“I love you,” Jon said, surprising himself, and immediately freezing up in Tormund’s arms. He didn’t want to let that out yet. What if Tormund hated him now? His musings were proven wrong entirely though, because Tormund pulled him even closer, now drawing small circles on Jon’s arms with his thumb.

“I know, little crow,” he said into his hair, Jon could hear the smile in his voice.

“You make it hard not to love you back,” his voice was earnest and clear, and Jon just had to look at him.

He turned in Tormund’s arms, not enough patience to wait for Ghost to jump away and thus rudely throwing him off his lap. Jon run a hand through his fur apologetically and turned back to Tormund.

“Truly?” he asked, now kneeling between the taller man’s legs and looking up at him astonished.

“Yes, truly” Tormund’s voice was rough with emotion now.

“I love you, have for a while now,” he said, lifting a hand to put a stray curl back behind Jon’s ear.

“Oh,” Jon said, thinking his face must look so stupid now, he felt so happy and full of wonder. His smile probably reached his ears by now, his face started hurting a bit from it.

“Can I be with you? he asked, in inching closer, yearning to be close to Tormund.

“I’d be honoured, little crow,” Tormund said, and reached for Jon, pulling him into his lap properly.

Jon’s face was so close he could feel Tormund’s breath on his face. They inched closer to each other, breath mingling, their noses brushing softly against each other. It felt like ages, looking into each other’s eyes until Jon’s eyes fluttered shut, and Tormund brushed his lips against Jon’s. His beard was already tickling Jon’s chin and their breaths were suddenly in unison.

The kiss was gentle and careful, Tormund was holding his face gently in his left hand, the other securing him close on his lap around his back. Jon’s hand found it’s way into his red curls quickly. Sighing contently in the kiss, they got lost in the kiss for much longer than they anticipated, still breathing through their noses. Unwilling to part from Tormund, Jon pulled himself further in, resting his other hand on Tormund’s chest.

They were interrupted when suddenly, the fireworks started. Jon jumped but didn’t separate himself from Tormund completely.

“Happy Midsummer,” he said looking up into Tormund’s eyes, where he could see the fireworks glittering.

“Happy Midsummer, little crow” Tormund said, and Jon turned around, settling himself between Tormund’s legs and leaning back into his chest.

Ghost returned to sitting on them, and Tormund and Jon watched the fireworks marking the end of the long summer days.

“Winter is coming, I suppose,” Jon repeated the old Stark family saying, and Tormund laughed behind him.

“Aye, it is, little crow.”

They sat there for a long time after the fireworks were done, gazing into the stars.  
All was well, Jon thought. Tormund held him close and started singing softly, and Jon dozed off, safe in his boyfriends’ arms.

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language so please forgive any mistakes I made! 
> 
> Leave kudos and a comment, this is my first fic on ao3!


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